


Indirect Date/First Kiss

by Rastro



Category: nada mas - Fandom
Genre: M/M, OCs - Freeform, im gonna mc die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rastro/pseuds/Rastro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>my tiny homos / Dante's memories of when they were 15 and gay</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indirect Date/First Kiss

When we were fifteen in august, Eli took me to an art museum. It was nothing special, the only special was that we were going alone. My mom wasn’t coming, nor was Andrea, just me and Eli. He already bought the ticket for me before he even asked if I wanted to go, like he knew I was going to say yes.  
“C’mon, I love it there, museums are so nice.”  
“And crowded.”  
“Please? I know you’ll love it more than I do.”  
“You’ve already been there?”  
“Twice.”  
“Why go again?”  
“I want to go with you.”  
I hate when he said things like that, ‘with me’, like he meant it. I hate that I know it sounds different from times when other people have said it to me, it tells me they didn’t mean it. I don’t like how he feels like an entire new experience, I thought I knew people. I thought i knew that everyone was the same, that I’ll always be nothing but a stranger in their eyes. Eli never called me a stranger, even when we first met, he always look at me with warm eyes, even when my fist was right in front of them.  
When the train came, I took a window seat, though he normally sits next to me today he sat across. “You wanna look outside too?” I asked. “No, I want to look at you.” He replied.  
That weirdo, I’m not something very nice to look at.  
“Shut up, what is it really.” He thought for a second, bit his lip and shifted his eyes towards the window. We were starting to move and everything was blending in the background. The trees and buildings all looked like nothing, only the sky stayed the same. I remember when we talked about the sky for 20 minutes.  
“I just was curious, why you didn’t want to come.” He said, now turning his head outside. “I know you said its because its crowded, but you told me you really love art, and you really prefer looking at things in person.” He blinked, then swallowed, I don’t know why he seemed so shy today. Maybe it was too cold.  
I coughed, then said. “Thought you wanted to look at me.” He turned his head back, a little surprised at my remark, he stuttered. “Oh, sorry, I just- I mean- I get nervous.”  
“What why? What am I going to do Eli? I’m not going to do anything.” I said, maybe a bit too loud. He looked at me with those stupid warm eyes, his face was pink in those light parts, red in those darker. “I know.” He said sadly, I wanted to question it, but I would’ve started an argument. We were at our destination anyway, and Eli launched from his seat. 

He stopped being afraid to hold my hand a week after I said I didn’t care if he did. He’s a physical guy, I understand. He prefers physical reassurance, it’s just better for him. But having him hold my hand while leading me down 53rd street felt different. People saw, everyone saw how excited he was to be with me, and it’s so different from when we’re just out late, and hes alittle scared. When its then, its easier, nobody can see us. But here, its all eyes on us, but its good. It’s not what I thought i would like, everyone, all these strangers understanding that Eli loves me this much.

The museum was boring, I’ll give it that. Some art caught my eye, I took some pictures and wrote down some artists names. Eli was having the most fun though, Eli made it fun. Having him pull me around, and him taking so many pictures, as if this was an amusement park. He makes anything feel like the most fun thing, and I’m glad.  
I’m glad i met someone like Eli. Someone who would stop me too look at a dog, or appreciate a beautiful sky, he enjoyed little and big things. Someone who genuinely gets excited to see me, who looks forward to pulling me out of bed every weekend to go outside, regardless of any weather. Somebody who doesn’t look at me like a stranger, someone I can look at as a friend.

\- - -

We got to that room, with the white screen. I don’t remember much, I just remember it was about Vietnam. I didn’t read every panel on the black wall, but Eli did. When we got to the room with the screen, he looked like he was about to cry, I hated seeing him like this. It was just so weird to me, then again he is more of an empathic person than me. Not that I don’t care about people, I just.  
I went to hold his hand as he was still staring at the screen, it was too bright for me to look at, I was too busy looking at him. Him and his dark skin, with those white spots, I saw a glistening line on his cheek.  
I wanted to kiss there, but I didn’t. I just held his hand tighter, and he returned the grip.

>>>

I have come to appreciate every bit and part of Eli, as he has for me. I feel like such an asshole, I’m terrible at letting people know how I feel. Not just because I don’t reach out, which i don’t, but I never know how to return the gesture. I get an idea, but I don’t act. I guess I’m just afraid of somehow messing up and embarrassing myself, but i felt I could never mess up around Eli. We were at his house, I was playing on his 2ds and he was reading, something called “Everything leads to You”. It was a weird title, I wanted to read the book. He saw me eyeing the book and looked up at me, giving me a gentle smile. He is honestly the most harmless person, he won’t hit anybody, he feels people never have to get hurt to solve anything. While I disagree with that, and feel some people need to get hit, I don’t say it to him; but he already knows how I feel.  
It takes me back to when I was trying to punch that guy, it’s been a year, but I already forgot his name. All i remember is Eli getting in front of my fist and taking the hit. Not for him, but for me. When the teacher came, he covered his nose and put his hoodie over my bloody fist; everybody’s words feel like a blurr.  
“What happened here?” I can remember the teacher speaking.  
“Nothing.” He stammered. “I- my nose is bleeding, a-and Dante was gonna take me to the nurse.” I bet his nose hurt like hell, I swung pretty hard. He didn’t care, all he cared about was helping me.

And it was just a summer day when I recalled this memory, of when we first met, when we first talked. He closed his book and asked me a question, I don’t remember what he said, I don’t remember what I said. The day felt so hazy after that, after what we did. It was funny, he just took my hand and we ran outside. The sun was blazing, two fifteen year olds running through a small woods, fall leaves nearly dead. We ended up racing at some point and I won. We just stood there, his hands on his knees, I was leaning against a tree and he started laughing. It was a gentle laugh, exhausted but happy, he really loved spending time with me; he really loved me. I returned the laugh, I really loved him. When he would pull me outside with a challenge, I prefer staying inside when it’s 80 degrees out, but here I am. Sitting in the dirt, laying against a tree with Eli. He walked over to sit next to me, I love his smile. His attitude, his look on life, the way he dresses and talks; it’s all him. Maybe we have very different views on people and life, how we feel around people, how much we let people know us. We work so well though, he works so well with me. He’s brought out so much in me I never knew I have, but I always wonder if I’ve done anything for him.  
Maybe I have, if he feels he can trust me so much. If he felt he could trust me enough to lean forward and know I wouldn’t move away, if he knows me so well to know I’ve wanted this ever since I met him. To know that even in the blazing heat, despite the trees above not being enough shade, despite the sweat on the back of my head for him to put his hand there. I remember when he told me I was like a cat who would never close its eyes around anyone, because it was too afraid. I wasn’t afraid to close them this time, to press harder, and put my hand on his waist. Everything was cold for a minute, then suddenly warm, warm, warm; warm all over. My body and mind had never been so satisfied together, I wasn’t scared to feel vulnerable, everything felt so good.

**Author's Note:**

> nOTHING EXPILICT HAPpened at the end they we re just smooching ok ok


End file.
